


how they do

by insight



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:50:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insight/pseuds/insight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a cockles photo op.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how they do

When Misha's hands come down on his shoulders, Jensen feels it like a shock to the system. The heavy weight bears down on Jensen as Misha leans in for the camera, making a face for the shot. Jensen has no time to draw himself in or straighten himself out, instead he knows all that will be captured will be his loose sprawl against Misha, his coat draped untidily over his arm.

‘Say ‘cheese’,’ Misha mutters in his ear, voice somehow menacing that Jensen has to butt his side into Misha, jam them closer, which draws an anonymous catcall from the crowd. Jensen plasters on a smarmy smirk, letting the audience get what they want but finds he can’t hold it, it turns shy on him because, well, Misha's hold feels possessive and Jensen likes that. 

They break apart and Misha is already laughing with the fans, autographing the back of a paper napkin or some such, saying things like, ‘That is insane, you’re insane, how many hits did you get for that?’ and being encouraging to the would-be performers of the future: Jensen finds that he likes that too.

He likes many things about Misha, actually.

Jensen takes out his iPhone and flips it open, hurriedly checking through to see if anyone’s left a message when Misha grabs him and hustles him until they're both standing next to Ruth and Erica. Jensen usually feels like he’s going to die whenever he finds himself standing next to beautiful women. He covers for it by being deliberately capricious and coming out with stuff like, ‘Yeah, Misha's just like a Russian novel, except without the horse-beating.’

Misha, however, looks so happy with Ruth and Erica that Jensen wanders off to stand beside the water dispenser, watching indulgently. They’re out of paper cups so Jensen snags one of the wineglasses stacked incongruously next to the cooler and pours himself one. Sipping at the water which tastes faintly of piña colada, Jensen watches Misha's wide gestures, his broad shoulders, the way Misha's whole body expresses himself, such a consummate performer even while in conversation that sometimes Jensen just wants to take Misha apart to see how it all works. 

The best part of the performance, though, is when Misha breaks away from it and smiles over at him. Jensen ducks his head and fiddles with his wineglass before giving a quick glance from beneath his lashes, biting at his own lip, enticing by the soothing flick of his tongue. _Coquette_ , Jensen reads in Misha's abruptly intent stare, sees it in Misha's sudden shift of legs, and Jensen cants his hips and leans back against the wall, casual sprawl- _You know you’re a whore for it, Misha._

And it’s only a matter of time before they find themselves having a quickie in the handicapped stall of the men’s bathroom, animalistic grunts coming from Misha's throat as Jensen gropes him through his pants, drags the zipper open, sticking inquiring fingers into Misha's boxers before he goes to his knees and sucks Misha down. And Misha holds off and holds off against the slick-suck of Jensen's mouth, his eyes shut tight against the image, and, fuck it all, but that’s _so hot_.

When they’ve both found their release, Jensen sinks to the floor because he feels a bit drowsy and Misha grouses, ‘This is the most disgusting place ever! You want to cuddle here?’ And Jensen smacks him softly upside the head because Jensen isn’t a _cuddler_ , nuh-uh.


End file.
